Silverback called Ace, and the call went directly to voicemail. It wasn’t unusual, though. “Bring Nelson to a modest hotel and check him in. Oh, a place that welcomes cats. We’ll get a flight to Spain on Monday after midnight, economy.”
Silverback paused. He unfolded an ad page from a travel magazine from the front pocket of his black polo. He glanced at it, then put it inside his leather wallet.
“I’ve already hired a captain and owner of a large fishing boat. I’m going to get into the Scarlet Owl ring’s secrets. Don’t worry. I’ll bring you back to Salt Lake City in a couple of weeks. Ivory has every safety measure at her disposal. She’s under Spade’s supervision.”
Ace was calling him back. Silverback answered.
“I’m not a fucking cat, dog, bird, or piranha person like my cousin, Ivory. Hell, Spade is the sensitive one. He dated Ivory,” Ace said, ashamed that he had let it slip. He was at a popular bar playing pool.
“Really. Well, I don’t care, watch the hotel while I pack a suitcase.” Silverback sighed. There was a burn in his chest at Ace’s slip.
Silverback drove up and picked up Ivory from the front of the hospital. She appeared excited to see his car move toward the front entrance and away from the visitors’ parked vehicles. She wore a T-shirt with her grandpa’s Smokies logo on the back.
“It’s finally my day to be free!” Ivory smiled as she bent to peer in the open car door window. Spade instantly got out before turning off the ignition, and Silverback’s face wasn’t blocked by Spade’s oversized body anymore.
No more sharing a room with another goddamn asshole, Ivory thought. The nurses seemed not to have a clue about grace and would dive into a solo chat while bringing in her hospital shitty meals. More upsetting to her were the male nurses, who enjoyed waking her at different hours and wouldn’t leave until she let them inject her with another intravenous line, with an antibiotic. Sometimes a male nurse would change her shoulder bandage and steal a look at her double D cup breasts.
Silverback’s only passenger was Spade; they arrived this time in his gray-and-black Dodge Charger. Spade helped Ivory into the front seat and set her backpack in the back. Ivory gave Spade a firm nod, expecting her brother, Mouse. She missed him a lot. And she harbored blame against Spade for not stopping the Mountain Gorillas from inviting Silverback to join.
Ivory watched as the male nurse wheeled the wheelchair back inside. She gave him the middle finger, like an eagle, adjusting her seat. Ivory pressed her thumb on the window lever and lay her head on the backrest. She was exhausted. Silverback took off his oversized aviator sunglasses just as the sun descended on his face.
Ivory gazed intensely at him. She was astonished. Silverback’s face was without a sign of a scar, and she needed medics because of a medical emergency. She was an idiot for making him cry at the “freak” joke.
She gathered her hair and pulled it up with a sequin swan-shaped hairclip. Ivory’s bangs were short, and she wore intense makeup around her eyes to hide that she hadn’t slept. She was struggling to steady her head; her mind had floated from tangible reality since Mouse’s death.
Silverback studied each road sign, making sure to find the highway sign leading far into the canyons. His face was more handsome than she remembered. A feeling of relief gave way to joy, and then to concern. Ivory rubbed away her black eyeliner. She clearly had some lingering effects of the desert, or was it the painkillers? Perhaps the nurses gave her an overdose by mistake. It would’ve been a blessing.
“Bill, it is like he never cut you,” Ivory said. The wildflowers danced and bowed in the Dodge Charger’s back windshield. The dessert taught lessons and warned of danger, like the Joshua trees outlined in the bright desert moonlight.
“A little swelling around my forehead and chin that will dissolve.” Ivory, get some sleep on the drive up to the abandoned motel.”
“No.”
“Okay. It’s unbelievable, yes, a miracle.” Silverback took her hand in his. A wave of cold and dizziness from hunger came to her. She should have eaten the breakfast egg croissant from the cafeteria while waiting for her discharge and Silverback.
Ivory needed clarification: “Where had you gotten the money to pay for such a talented plastic surgeon? So the ride to Florida was profit-hauling, but the Mountain Gorillas have taken it all, no?” Ivory asked with a bold, curious spark in her eyes.
“Flavored vape cigarettes are illegal and difficult to get. Like everything else, which is in meager supply, it is costly.”
“Grandpa had a personal pile at home, not just in his office at Smokies.”
One Week Earlier…
Silverback drove the 242 miles from Salt Lake City to the Canyonlands National Park. His solid-black Harley motorcycle glistened like exquisite onyx. He cut in hard using the controls, darted like a black fly, and split highway lanes nearly unseen.
The big refrigerated trunks, greyhound buses, and RVs he fired past.
He held tight to the grips of his stock handlebars. Sweat and blood glossed his sunburned skin and painted his peacock tattoo with plum feathers, dripping off his forearms to his wrists onto the shiny metal controls.
Silverback was fighting an invisible wall of formidable darkness, working hard to get freed, but he halted his attempt to swim to the surface. He thought, How much longer can I hold the Gray Wolf back? A realization that this happened before. Silverback barely missed a flatbed truck in his careless distraction.
The annoyed truck driver blindly cursed him as Silverback’s can of soda fell and rolled underneath the front seat when he steered to the right lane.
Silverback looked to his right at the other lanes, then at the highway behind. The roads united and expanded grotesquely. The sun appeared like an orangish ornament over the bold, flashing lands of Southern Utah’s rising sand and stone cliffs, slot canyons, and eerie mountains. The surprisingly fiery brightness causes the illusion of death and elevation.
Behind Silverback in the fast lane was Mouse. A ghost wearing a black hood, gloves, and a helmet adorned with a terrifying gorilla design. Riding.
Silverback decided not to take the route that passes the billboard for “The Points” bagel shop and the gas station. He regained optimism about losing Mouse and again shook off the mediocre theory that Bill was itching to find Ivory, taking her to Moab or the nearby canyons. It was absurd that Bill would continue what he started in the backseat of the Jeep Wrangler. The isolation, starvation, thirst, and bite of the Gray Wolf make it improbable and suicidal.
No one would voluntarily face the Mountain Gorilla gang or the Southern Utah desert except the unknown maniac who haunts the remote canyons. Or the red-bellied piranhas, who feared nothing in the desert air, rocks, or river waters.
Silverback glanced at his round mirror dotted with dead mosquitoes as he flew by and onto an exit ramp. He still didn’t see Mouse and was satisfied that Mouse wasn’t behind him. He sighed in relief. Mouse was a dangerous man, and it made him worry.
Silverback absorbed the sobering sight of his scars and was darkly anxious. But their removal would be a challenge. But Ivory’s mother had an ex-husband; he’s a doctor. Plus, Ace was excellent at creating motivation by applying blackmail. A remarkably experienced surgeon was necessary. Besides, he’d done ugly things, the esteemed Doctor. He’d rather have them stay buried. Silverback was reluctant; he didn’t like owing Ace any favors.
He turned the motorcycle into the guest parking lot on the west side of the large hospital. When he switched off the battery power, his Harley seemed to purge the mechanic’s repair checklist. He spat his gum into the trash can when he stepped onto the sidewalk and put a brown boot on the low bench. He had ridden to Florida with the Mountain Gorilla gang and pledged never to do it again.
He was tired of being chained to the Mountain Gorillas as their leader. Silverback smoked a brand of cigarette he had never smoked. He needed something to soothe the agony of exhaustion. He wasn’t going anywhere. He put the pack of cigarettes back in his brown boot. Adam did not fear lung collapse, as the Grey Wolf was an old friend, but Ivory hated the smell of the brand.
No, I was forced to stay back to help Ivory.
Silverback’s wristwatch blinked the caller’s name in red. “Where are you?”
“Hunting thieves, they’ll be dead crows once they offer up the ring,” Mouse said. “Snuffing out merry motherfuckers, who spoiled our cash block and messed with Ivory.”
“Nelson and Bill,” Silverback unzipped his side pocket and put his lighter inside, “No one else deserves your charitable talents .”
“One unlucky extra, The Boss.”
“What about The Boss? Silverback laughed. Mouse demonstrated his annoyance with a blast from an automatic pistol after he abandoned his meal order at a drive-thru.
Mouse yelled, “The older man you almost side-swiped in the red Ferrari was the Boss.”
“Alright, Alright. The boss is a son-of-a-bitch, a drug, weapons, and human trafficker. “
“Right.” Mouse ended the call.
Ivory will love the custom modifications on their mutual obsession with motorcycles. Silverback thought: Right now, she and Mouse wanted Bill more than fucked-up. The Scarlet Owl ring possessed her full attention.
Silverback had injected and bled out the motorcycle’s gasoline lines, trying to find the ring before Mouse. He’d visit with Ivory. Then, he would look for Bill and Nelson. Bill hinted while captive that the antidote to his disease lay in the Scarlet Owl ring. The single way to remove the Maniac of the Utah Canyons and the Gray Wolf.
The Scarlet Owl ring had two sides, which Silverback had in common. Good and Evil.
Silverback looked at his motorcycle for a while, then walked a few laps around the dark structure of the steel and glass building. He noticed the Doctor’s cars: a burgundy Porsche, a white Corvette, and a Mercedes. He liked his ride best.
Since the horrible accident, he had to lock his feelings in a vault, which meant his most minor and significant desires and their complete opposites: total Rage and total Sorrow. Ivory supervised these emotions, and the Gray Wolf was strictly ruled by himself. The dark-winged canyons, he called it, for mysterious reasons, demanded blood.
Ivory hadn’t convinced Silverback that he was the Maniac of the Canyons. The deadly assaults left many skulls, like rusty cans, and wrinkled snakeskin curling beneath the unrelenting punishment of the desert sun.
Am I capable? Silverback asked. The rage spat like hot lava, ghost chili, and the madness of unresting souls.
He couldn’t kill innocent persons in a blackout or a state of consciousness. But he had some doubts. He swallowed the piranhas, he recalled. He caught them from the sink and ate his pet piranhas. They were irresistible with pepper, and their taste awoke something inside him. A uncontrolled energy, which Ivory brought him, this curse, as the accident altered his life.
She was nude in a hotel window, with sparkling pink, purple, and silver eyeshadow, blue hair, and a gold bracelet with a ring hung on a gold link as its sole charm.
The Scarlet Owl.
He took the stairs after the guest’s badge from the host’s desk. Elevators were not his usual mode of transportation, as they made him apprehensive. The sensation constantly flooded his head and stomach with memories of the past; he was a child, and he had left his little brother, Luke, alone. The button to the elevator doors stuck, and they shut, trapping him inside.
Luke was left behind, kidnapped, and forever lost.
On every floor, his stomach growled with the old memory. He emptied his last energy on the climb, and three levels remained. His memories of Luke closed when he received a text at the top of his list of messages: Confirm your appointment with Dr. J. Kisperr.
Tomorrow? The scars were fresh burdens, and he had limited time to erase the disfigurement. Yet he was pressured to reschedule, and the delay he regretted. No choice.
The hallway floor was messy, much like the broad sidewalk outside, with brown coffee lids, face masks, and visitor name tags scattered about. The emergency entrance’s effect stirred the hospital’s intense, dark realities. The gate of both life and death opens and closes unendingly. He felt the gate; it wasn’t anything terrible. He thirsted for the appearance or resurrection of his younger brother, and the gate denied that.
Ace grabbed his shoulder, “An iced coffee for you.” It was a bit late, but no less desired.
Ace handed him the cold plastic cup when he arrived on Ivory’s floor.
“Mouse?”
Silverback hesitated and said, “No. ” The elevator doors were closed, and he felt Luke’s spirit rise like curled smoke as the floor changed. Silverback felt a strange chill of a nearby threat as they looked for Ivory’s room.
The hallway sign read: 11th floor, room 229-259.
A shadow crossed the joining corridor. Silverback and Ace gazed at it, and the figure was somewhat familiar. A tall doctor came into view and passed them; the shadow was that of the male nurse who accompanied the patients.
Ace gestured to Silverback and went up the corridor to confirm it was empty, but it was Ace’s instinct to search further. Ace’s ripped jeans poorly concealed a folded, serrated pocketknife; it shone like unpolished quartz. It could slit a throat or uncork a bottle of wine quickly.
“The shadow has a head; I’ll cut it off,” Mouse whispered.
Silverback glanced at the time on his iPhone, its display framed in a black cameo case. He wore a black t-shirt with an island graphic that Ivory enjoyed.
Ivory drank her orange juice and handed Silverback a chunk of floating ice from the plastic cup. Silverback kissed her, and her damp blond hair reflected blue momentarily.
When he returned, Ace picked up a chair and took it outside the room behind the doorway. Ivory turned her face, and Silverback’s lips touched her pink cheek but missed her chapped lips.
“As bad as you want out of the Mountain Gorillas, I want to go home.”
Silverback gave her an understanding look. He opened the curtain and warned Ace to watch nearby and forget what he had overheard. At his command, Ace stood farther away from the front of the doorway.
The room appeared smaller beneath the fantastic ceiling light and the broad scope of the door. A tabletop bladeless fan spun soundlessly, sending a couple of pink rose petals through the oval disk it picked and swept from the stems.
In a glass vase were five baby Piranhas. Ivory moved them in there. “Call Squirrel, Mouse, Demon. I don’t give a fuck his goddamn name.” She got out of bed, pillows and tears falling as she adjusted her hospital gown.
He walked closer to her and hugged her at the edge of the bed.
Silverback picked up the pillows on the floor. She threw the small hair comb at the door, frustrated with him and her tangled, half-dry hair. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she said, examining Silverback’s appearance harshly. You look terrible; you think I’m not, okay?”
“Thanks, I didn’t realize I was so unpleasant.” Silverback placed his palms flat on the scarring on his forehead and chin.”
“Freak.”
Then she braided her hair in silence. Her tone softened when she saw she’d hurt Silverback, and she said, “You’ll be handsome again.”
Silverback turned around from her. The scars were increasing and bothering him as well. “Does it matter? Or, just another general cost of being the leader of the Mountain Gorillas?”
“No, I won’t let you suffer for me, the Mountain Gorillas, or the fucking Scarlet Owl ring. Got it?” A spasm of pain pierced the whole side of her body.
He gently put his hands over hers and kissed her injured shoulder. “Will get the ring back.” He covered the Piranhas with a napkin. “I deserve it. I am responsible for the terrible crimes in the Moab park canyons.”
***
“Illegal and hotly desired. Yes, the addictive practice of young adults.” Silverback and Ivory lost their cocaine, of course. What they didn’t smoke in the desert, Bill and Nelson ruined by leaving it in the searing desert sun.
Ivory’s thoughts were everywhere with her brother, Mouse. She had a terrible feeling that Spade was responsible, and it wasn’t fading.
“Where’s Ace?” Ivory asked, admiring Silverback’s model face. His face was a reflection she thought she’d never see again. Silverback was satisfied, and Ivory was more unsettled. “Ace is in danger. “
It was worth it. Yes! “The blackmail, the rest of the money came from Nelson, who was sorry for what his brother Bill did and begged him to take what he offered to return the Persian cats.”
“You blackmailed the DR Rails?” She saw it confirmed in Silverback’s dim, regretful eyes.
“Nelson didn’t want anything for free from anyone, all right. I got Nelson’s cats back. But the DR funds our big excursion to the Bermuda Triangle, and the DR J. Kisperr isn’t a saint.”
“Ace is keeping Nelson from running and telling The Boss about our plan. Understanding the Scarlet Owl…” Spade leaned over, tugging down his collar on his white flannel shirt with an image of the Virgin Islands, and rested his elbow on Ivory’s headrest. “Nelson thinks Bill is now a dead mark, so Nelson will likely return to Bill and perhaps work for The Boss. Ace is holding him from doing precisely that.”
“Brilliant. I would rather Bill be the Beast’s victim than The Boss, okay? He fucking tortured Silverback. Ivory yelled. I want to save Bill, too, but for the fucking Beast to claw his skin and tear out his organs like a fucking wild animal.” Ivory’s eyes went into a strange state of desperation. She was ready to do a secret deal with Bill.
“Silverback, we can’t let Nelson out of our sight. The Boss taking care of Bill for us isn’t fair.” Ivory chewed on strands of her hair and washed the smears of her brown eye shadow with moisturizer wipes from the pocket of the sun visor.
Silverback smelled the faint lemon scent of the moisturizer wipes as he heard her heavy breaths. I want to go to my mom’s, all right.” Ivory said, putting on lip balm.
“That’s not a smart idea. Trust me.” Silverback got off at the correct exit and curved left closer toward the Southern east side and the canyons. “Ace is going with me to help with managing Nelson. Make sure he doesn’t act on his fears. He has experienced the Scarlet Owl ring and knows there’s much to unlock. Nelson is hopeful it can save his sight.”
“Why not him instead!? Ivory turned her head and looked at Spade. “What if the Boss finds you and Ace? Also, Nelson is no match for the Gray Wolf?”
That’s why I need Ace. The Surreal Red Forces have the Scarlet Owl ring. Or they will get it, and I am sure they will return it to the Bermuda Triangle. The key lies in the Bermuda Triangle’s black hole, and I can rely on Spade to protect you from the Beast.”
“Spade?”
“Yes, Ivory, I need you to stay with Spade. He will take you to your rehabilitation appointments. The Beast hasn’t left Utah; he knows our hideout in the desert. The maniac isn’t after any particular victim. So, Mountain Gorillas are fair prey. The police have ceased searching in the canyons due to the loss of too many rescue service dogs. We were trespassers but fortunate. The abandoned motel’s caretaker is extremely intimidated, like everybody is of the Mountain Gorillas, scared to report that we were uninvited campers to anybody in uniform. We have endless permission.”
“We are going there then. Are you fucking serious?” Ivory wrapped the belt of her sweater tightly around her waist, and she shivered with cold.
“Yes. The caretaker, Juan, never saw Bill or Nelson. The maniac would think you’d be crazy to return, and Juan’s offered us another safe place to stay. The police are wrong that the maniac left Utah and isn’t interested in the Moab park canyons. Nobody goes out there, bullshit, so why are the parks forced to close earlier in the season?” Silverback drove quickly down a dismal road.
Ivory turned the radio station, searching for a new report on the Beast, the maniac of the desert park canyons.
“The Moab park canyons had several cancellations, the tourists had all gone frightened away, and the folks around here left the ghostly red-stained canyons. If he’s still there in the canyons, he can be in any of them, and there are dozens.” Silverback went silent for a minute. “As I said, the police must investigate thoroughly; though it’s impossible to search all the canyons, they can only reach some, even with drones and trained dogs. They want to calm the public and arrest someone, and they have no new leads to follow from the abandoned motel.”
“Where exactly are you taking us?” Ivory asked.
“The remote base edge of the Canyons.”
“You’ll see. The Beast can be anywhere, in the city, and your mom’s neighbor.” Spade added.
“When are you leaving for Spain?”
“As soon as I leave you guys off. I am coming back with the Scarlet Owl and all its secrets. The vice-ridden surgeon fixed my face. Now I want the Gray Wolf in an iron dog crate and find its true destiny: the Scarlet Owl Ring has all the answers. If we want to stop the Beast, then this is the only way. Failure will mean the FBI will create a way to convict me of the desert murders if police, forensics, and profilers continue making mistakes. They could have captured the Beast if they had contracted with the Mountain Gorillas.” Silverback looked into his side mirrors and caught the dark tail of the Gray Wolf in the center of the highway.
“Silverback–” Spade read aloud Nelson’s text: Mouse was killed in a hit-and-run.”
Ivory screamed and scratched the back of her head. She brushed Silverback’s smooth, light skin with her long, delicate fingernails, attempting to interrupt the final stage of cosmetic recovery. Spade held her wrists before she ruined Silverback’s facial mold or the vertical stitches across her vulnerable shoulder.
Spade’s message made her pass out.
Celia Garza 